See, as you approach Exit 6 along Interstate 90, signs put up by the state Department of Transportation will tell you there's food available on the north side of the exit, toward suburban Loudonville.

Yet there are no signs directing you south, toward Henry Johnson Boulevard and the city's Arbor Hill and West Hill neighborhoods.

That means the signs don't point you toward the Subway that Austin-Peters and her husband, David, opened five years ago in a corner strip mall.

"We're here now, and we're an international franchise," Austin-Peters said recently while sitting at a table at the front of her restaurant. "So why won't they put a sign there letting people know that we're here?"

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Austin-Peters is not a typical Subway owner.

She gave birth to her first child when she was just 16 and lived in the North Albany projects. But she went to the University at Albany and has had a varied career that's included stints as a Thruway toll collector, county probation officer and supervisor at a state social services agency.

Now in her mid-50s, she finds herself with an unexpected occupation: lobbyist.

She has contacted the Department of Transportation and state and local officials, pleading the case for a highway sign.

Austin-Peters believes that if signs point to food in one direction but not another, a motorist is going to assume there's nothing to eat in the direction without signs.

"Not only are you not telling people that we're here, you're steering them away from us," she said.

Adding insult to injury is the fact that the DOT sign, a fork and knife silhouetted against a white plate, points motorists toward another sandwich shop, a Mr. Subb on Northern Boulevard.

Carole Breen, a DOT spokeswoman, acknowledged that the department has heard from Austin-Peters. But she said the restaurant and neighborhood aren't eligible for a sign.

Under federal guidelines, according to Breen, food signs are used to direct motorists only to rural areas.

"We expect that in urbanized areas, people will assume that there are food and services there," Breen said.

But even a Manhattanite wouldn't consider the north side of Exit 6 rural. The heavily trafficked area, after all, is home to Memorial Hospital. It's also within the city limits of Albany, albeit near the Colonie town line.

Breen conceded the neighborhood, which is along Route 9, would no longer meet the department's definition of rural, and she suggested that the state would be more likely to take the existing signs down than to put them up for Henry Johnson Boulevard.

As most Capital Region residents know, Interstate 90 is a dividing line between the wealth and prestige of Colonie and Loudonville and the poverty of Arbor Hill and West Hill.

Breen stressed that her department's signage decision has nothing to do with perceptions about the relative safety or condition of the inner-city neighborhoods.

Austin-Peters isn't sure she buys that, although she believes Henry Johnson Boulevard suffers from a reputation problem. In fact, she chose the location because she wanted to help turn the troubled neighborhood around.

"I wanted to say, 'Let's see what I can do to change things,'" Austin-Peters recalled.

Henry Johnson Boulevard has changed quite a bit, even since Austin-Peters opened her Subway.

Meghan Daly, the city's deputy commissioner of planning, and Katie Bronson, a senior planner, noted that the city has targeted the street and surrounding neighborhoods for improvements.

And recent years have brought to the boulevard a new library branch and park, as well as the buildings that house the police department and some city planning offices.

"This is like the gateway to the city of Albany," Austin-Peters said. "They've done a lot to things to spruce up the area."

Austin-Peters notes that the gateway also has a Stewart's that sells gas, a Family Dollar store and a couple of sit-down eateries.

Henry Johnson Boulevard, she said, has a lot to offer a passing motorist.